


dance to this

by kozen



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Fisting, Friends With Benefits, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Riding, the one where ksoo is a kinky shit and there are flying dildos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 19:11:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16225505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kozen/pseuds/kozen
Summary: A fuck buddy is one of life’s greatest pleasures in Baekhyun’s humble opinion.





	dance to this

**Author's Note:**

> *man walking emoji*
> 
> thanks to nikki for checking this mess for me <3

 

 

i.

  


College has taught Baekhyun a good deal of things. Among those things is that free time and sleep are expendable. As a pre-med student, he’s spent many a night hunched over Anatomy textbooks at the library, learning the wonders of the human body, as well its not-so wondrous idiosyncrasies, all for the pursuit of higher education.

 

Tonight, like many other nights, finds Baekhyun forgoing sleep in pursuit of something.

 

Something being Kyungsoo on his hands and knees while Baekhyun thrusts lazily into him. Baekhyun hadn’t even had time to take off his shirt when Kyungsoo had pounced on him, pulled at his shorts so he could get his mouth and fingers on Baekhyun’s cock as soon as he arrived. And to his delight, Kyungsoo had come in ready, lubed and hungry for Baekhyun.

 

A fuck buddy is one of life’s greatest pleasures in Baekhyun’s humble opinion.

 

“Why are you going so slow?” An impatient Kyungsoo begins bucking his hips to meet Baekhyun’s thrusts. “I wanna get off sometime within tonight.”

 

“Sorry,” Baekhyun chuckles, thrusting faster. He smiles at Kyungsoo’s gasp. “I’ve slept about three hours this week.”

 

“Why?” Kyungsoo says, breathless. “Are you cramming for finals?”

 

“Yes.” Baekhyun moans when Kyungsoo rolls his hips back again. “And I need to get that internship with Professor Kim.”

 

“Maybe you should suck his dick,” Kyungsoo suggests. Baekhyun thrusts sharply in response, and Kyungsoo cries out, laughs breathlessly. “I’m kidding, dickhead. Now, would you fuck me properly?”

 

Baekhyun says, “Shut the fuck up,” then begins fucking into Kyungsoo.

 

The door to the apartment opens and heavy steps can be heard inside. Baekhyun wasn’t expecting his roommate to come back for two hours—but when he checks the clock on his nightstand he realizes it’s been nearly two hours since Kyungsoo arrived.

 

“Baekhyun?”

 

Chanyeol’s voice comes from the hallway. Baekhyun stiffens, looks wide-eyed at the bedroom door, praying that Chanyeol doesn’t come in. All the while Kyungsoo is rolling his hips, groaning loudly, and most surprising of all is that he’s coming into his hand.

 

“What the—”

 

“Is that Kyungsoo?” Chanyeol asks through the door. “You nasty bitches!”

 

Kyungsoo falls to his side, laughing, and looking up at Baekhyun. Baekhyun’s heart skips a beat. Kyungsoo with happiness on his face looks beautiful.

 

“Did you get off because Chanyeol got home? Is there something I should know?”

 

“I don’t know.” Kyungsoo runs a hand through his hair. Then, his eyes fall to Baekhyun’s erection. “Oh sorry—I’ll take care of that.”

 

Kyungsoo puts his mouth on him, sucking until Baekhyun is clawing at the sheets and coming down his throat. Kyungsoo drinks him eagerly, then licks come off his lips like it’s the tastiest thing he’s ever had.

 

  
ii.  


 

They met during one of Kyungsoo’s visits to a friend in Baekhyun’s apartment complex almost a year before. Baekhyun had been living with Chanyeol for two years then, so he knew every face that came and went in the building, and the man with the heart-shaped lips and tired eyes that Baekhyun met sometimes in the hallways was hard to miss.

 

The young man had instantly piqued Baekhyun’s interest, but it wasn’t until their twelfth near-encounter that Baekhyun dared to strike up a conversation right outside his door.

 

“Hey, you’re friends with Myungsoo, right?”

 

Kyungsoo had blinked round, black eyes at him, until he recognized Baekhyun. “Yes, I am. He’s a classmate and we’re working on a project together.”

 

The guy’s voice was low, silky rough, and it somehow suited the rest of him: slightly tanned, skinny but strong. He had wide hands, not like Chanyeol’s meat-shovels, but delicate and deft, which Baekhyun already knew where he could put them to good use. There were graphite stains on his thumb and forefinger—not a smoker but an artist, Baekhyun figured.

 

In a flash, Baekhyun saw him hunched over a desk, features wound in concentration, using Baekhyun as his study subject—

 

“I’m Baekhyun,” he introduced himself, lifting a palm. “You and Myungsoo should come over for dinner tonight so you can meet Chanyeol. My roommate.”

 

Kyungsoo’s smile had been timid. Right under the polite tenor, Baekhyun spied the same kind of interest flickering in those brown eyes. “I’d really like that, Baekhyun.”

 

Baekhyun never put much thought into this little arrangement of theirs in the beginning. Only that it was nice to get off when he was stressed and it was nice that someone wanted him for the very same purposes. That they were on the same page.

 

Kyungsoo is a first year in architecture while Baekhyun is halfway through his dream of becoming a pediatrician. Stress is part of their routines and methods to relieve it are scarce.

 

It used to be like that in the early months. Kyungsoo would call whenever a project was nearing and he needed the relief, and Baekhyun would text whenever he needed to get his mind off his readings. But in recent months, their arrangement included sex whenever they had the time. And the sex _is_ fantastic.

 

Kyungsoo is quiet in everyday life, so it had come as a surprise how kinky he was in bed. They’ve tried some positions in places—sometimes public—that would have never occurred to Baekhyun before. Baekhyun was neither particularly vanilla nor daring, but there was something to be said about how Kyungsoo managed to make him come three times a night sometimes. Their body chemistry, the almost intuitive way they know what the other wants, was what kept Baekhyun coming back in the end.

 

Baekhyun would try anything if Kyungsoo proposed it.

 

So far it’s been fun.

 

“You want me to fuck you with your dildo?”

 

“Yes,” Kyungsoo replies, matter-of-factly. “That’s what I said.”

 

“But wouldn’t that hurt?” Baekhyun eyes the dildo Kyungsoo had given him, the carved veins and sturdy girth. “It’s a bit of a stretch.”

 

“I’ve taken two dicks before,” Kyungsoo admits with a simper. “You don’t need to worry.”

 

“Two dicks?” The mere thought of Kyungsoo in the middle of two guys, with two dicks inside of him, makes his dick twitch. When he notices this, Kyungsoo’s smile grows. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

 

“I’ll tell you all about it later so you get enough material to think about during study hours,” Kyungsoo says, a touch impatient. “Would you come here already? I want _your_ dick now.”

 

Putting his concern aside, Baekhyun shuffles forward on his knees until he’s slipping into Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo moans with the intrusion, legs spread wide to accommodate Baekhyun. Baekhyun braces himself on Kyungsoo’s right knee as he thrusts once, shallow and tentative, though Kyungsoo’s fingers on his asscheek are goading him to speed up his pace.

 

Kyungsoo drags Baekhyun down by his nape, giving him a thorough, bruising kind of kiss. “Do it,” pants Kyungsoo into his mouth. “Do it now.”

 

Baekhyun pulls out completely, grabs the dildo and places it along the top side of his dick. Slipping it inside slowly, it stretches Kyungsoo with some difficulty, inch by slow inch. Kyungsoo cries out, shakes, and Baekhyun stops when it’s partially inside.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Kyungsoo squeezes his eyes shut, gathering his breath as he adjusts to the stretch. Baekhyun stares. Stares at his dick and the dildo inside Kyungsoo, the weird feeling of it on top of his dick and how enticingly tight Kyungsoo is. It feels better than anything Baekhyun’s ever tried before and it takes everything in him not to move, not to pound into Kyungsoo because he knows it must burn a little.

 

“Move,” Kyungsoo demands in an exhale, clawing at Baekhyun’s ribs. “I’m ready.”

 

 _Are you sure_ is at the tip of his tongue, caught in time by a look from Kyungsoo that tells him to shut up and go ahead. Baekhyun drives into Kyungsoo while holding the dildo by the fake balls, and Kyungsoo screams, stroking his own dick in tandem with Baekhyun’s thrusts.

 

It’s not comfortable enough for Baekhyun to enjoy it, but Kyungsoo looks thoroughly fucked-out, eyes closed and mouth open, small whimpers of Baekhyun’s name spilling out that Baekhyun saves like little keepsakes in his pocket.

 

Baekhyun gives one more thrust, sharper than the last, and Kyungsoo’s nose scrunches in something akin to pain. A set of alarms ring in Baekhyun’s head. In an instant, he slows down, dips so he can kiss Kyungsoo, smooth out the frown on his brow. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”

 

Opening his eyes to a slit, Kyungsoo nods. Baekhyun pulls back a fraction to appreciate the view: Kyungsoo looks beautiful like this, flushed from face to chest, his mouth carved in a silent moan and his eyes hooded with desire. Baekhyun can’t fight down the urge to sweep his damp bangs aside, gentler than usual. It’s such a subtle action, but its nuances are vast and meddlesome, encroaching on Baekhyun at unexpected moments like these.

 

Baekhyun’s hand stops mid-air and drops to the side listless.

 

“What are you doing?” Kyungsoo inquires. “Who told you to stop?”

 

The air rushes back into Baekhyun’s lungs. He huffs out a laugh, shakes his head—at Kyungsoo’s brazenness, but mostly at himself for that hiccup. “I was just admiring the view. Sorry, I’ll get right back to—”

 

The dildo slips out, the fake balls lodging between Baekhyun’s pelvis and Kyungsoo’s ass, and as Baekhyun thrusts, the tip slides over the crest of Kyungsoo’s asscheek and goes flying straight at Baekhyun’s face.

 

There’s a second of silence where they stare at each other, Baekhyun streaked with lube and Kyungsoo’s wild eyes on him—and then both burst into uncontrollable laughter.

 

Baekhyun’s hands are slippery with lube so rubbing his face to get rid of it only increases the mess. It’s so senseless and ridiculous, he convulses with laughter again. “That fucking dildo hit me in the face! This is disgusting!”

 

Kyungsoo laughs so hard he nearly rolls out of the bed. One of the fascinating things Baekhyun has learned about Kyungsoo is that when Kyungsoo laughs this hard his face scrunches, his eyes disappearing into crescent moons, crinkled with mirth. His laugh is high-pitched and maniac and ridiculous, and Baekhyun would make fun of it if he didn’t find it so damn cute.

 

Call Baekhyun a hopeless romantic—or just hopeless, which he is at this point—but he wouldn’t mind getting hit by another dildo if it meant watching Kyungsoo laugh like that.

 

The incident has killed Baekhyun’s boner stone dead. It is mainly his fault for using an excessive amount of lube, so he doesn’t feel that guilty when he wipes his hands on the bed. Baekhyun slips out of bed and into a pair of shorts to inspect his face on the mirror; there’s no visible swelling so he breathes easily.

 

“What? You don’t like phallic-shaped things flying at your face?”

 

Baekhyun fights back a chuckle to pout at Kyungsoo. “Not when they leave my nose all achy and red, Soo! At least your Little Soo is nice to me when he’s on my face.”

 

“Stop calling it Little Soo,” Kyungsoo reproaches, though his laughter belies his words. “You don’t call it little when you’re gorging on it.” As if to prove a point, Kyungsoo slips his hand between his thighs, touching his soft dick absently, then returns it to his stomach. Baekhyun has to tear his eyes away to not pounce on him. “Can you check if it’s still raining?”

 

Baekhyun swallows, bobs his head in a nod. Kyungsoo’s smirk is smug and knowing. Baekhyun pads to the window and cracks the curtain to peek. It has been raining non-stop since the morning—it had let up when Kyungsoo arrived but it seems to have picked up sometime in the interim. A couple of cars cruise through the flooded roads and some umbrellas float along the pavement despite the awful weather.

 

“It’s still raining pretty badly,” Baekhyun says. “Are you gonna call an uber?”

 

There is silence on Kyungsoo’s part. It extends for so long that Baekhyun has the impulse to check if he’s fallen asleep, right as Kyungsoo speaks.

 

“Can I sleep here?”

 

Baekhyun looks over at him then. Kyungsoo is sprawled on the bed, naked and flushed and beautiful, rubbing his chest. It’s an absent action, Baekhyun knows from seeing it often, but it adds to his allure, how sexy Kyungsoo is while doing the smallest of things. It drives Baekhyun crazy each time without fail.

 

This time it doesn’t divert Baekhyun’s attention. The offer is enticing, something Baekhyun has fantasized about more times than he can count, and also—

 

“Sure,” Baekhyun mumbles, nodding. “If you want.”

 

It would be the first time Kyungsoo has spent the night and it makes Baekhyun more than a little nervous. It also feels like a monumental step in their relationship—not that there is one right now, at least not officially, but Baekhyun would really like it if there were. He just hadn’t found the right moment to break the question.

 

Kyungsoo suddenly stands and walks to the bathroom. Baekhyun watches him from the window, and later, follows him out of the room when Kyungsoo heads to the kitchen, naked as the day he was born.

 

Baekhyun watches with growing puzzlement as Kyungsoo puts on Chanyeol’s apron— _world’s okayest chef_ printed in block letters on the front—, ties it around his waist and pads to the fridge to check its contents.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Making dinner,” Kyungsoo replies. Like it’s the most natural thing to cook dinner in his fuck buddy’s kitchen. “If I’m going to stay I want to pay you back with a meal. Want anything in particular?”

 

“Uh, I don’t know,” Baekhyun mumbles. “We don’t have much. There’s some days-old kimchi and I’m pretty sure that cheese has expired and—”

 

“Okay, you can go to the grocery store to get some stuff while I cook the pasta.”

 

It’s so weird seeing Kyungsoo in his kitchen without Chanyeol’s gigantic form hovering over him, so Baekhyun stares at him dumbly until Kyungsoo sends him a look that says _now_.

 

Upon his return, Baekhyun’s met with the pleasant smell of cooking and Kyungsoo’s naked butt while stirring the pasta in a pot. Baekhyun has never had such a nice sight or smell in his kitchen, especially while living with Chanyeol, where take-out and greasy fast food would replace normal meals.

 

“I bought wine,” Baekhyun says, putting the groceries over the counter. “I remembered you mentioned you hated champagne.”

 

“Thanks,” Kyungsoo says and turns to look at Baekhyun. “Why are you looking at me like I’m an apparition?”

 

“No reason,” Baekhyun laughs, shaking his head. “Do you need me to help you with something?”

 

“No, thanks.” Kyungsoo throws Baekhyun a smirk. “I know you’ll make a mess of the kitchen.”

 

Baekhyun scoffs, then goes to pour himself a glass of water. “I won’t stand for this slander in my kitchen!”

 

“I’ll make it up to you,” Kyungsoo promises, and Baekhyun smiles at him with the same kind of darkness.

 

When dinner is ready, Baekhyun makes sure to set the table; a tiny, four-chaired table that he and Chanyeol had found in a garage sale for a crazy good price because of an uneven leg, though it has a shabby, vintage charm. Baekhyun grabs two tea candles from a batch his mother gifted him last Christmas and lights them in the center of the table to create a more romantic vibe, helped by the gentle patter of rain on the windows.

 

“This is so nice,” Baekhyun says, when Kyungsoo sets the plates on the table. “Chanyeol got a girlfriend a couple weeks ago and won’t cook for me anymore, so I’ve been getting used to leftovers and frozen meals.”

 

“Don’t be so impatient,” Kyungsoo reproaches, bemused. “You’ll get a stomachache.”

 

“But you’ll be here to nurse me back to health,” Baekhyun throws back, fluttering his lashes. “Wouldn’t you like to be my naughty nurse?”

 

“Shut up,” Kyungsoo laughs and throws a steamed carrot at Baekhyun’s nose. Baekhyun sputters, then wipes his nose with the back of his hand.

 

“Why is it becoming a trend to hit my face with things?”

 

“Maybe you love things on your face,” Kyungsoo quips. Baekhyun winks before taking a swig of his wine and Kyungsoo chuckles.

 

They eat in silence for a while. It lasts until Baekhyun feels a pressure against his thigh, which, with one peek beneath the table, Baekhyun confirms is Kyungsoo’s foot. Kyungsoo traces Baekhyun’s inner thigh, gently at first, then more insistently when he reaches Baekhyun’s crotch. Baekhyun tries to eat normally, pretends to be unaffected by Kyungsoo’s touches, while Kyungsoo watches him with a neutral expression across the table.

 

Baekhyun’s growing hotter under his clothes, close to caving and letting Kyungsoo take whatever he wants. Despite his determination to remain stoic, his surrender comes not long after; Kyungsoo massages his dick with enough pressure that Baekhyun lets his guard down and unleashes out a long, wanton whine. Now he’s half hard in his pants, his food is half eaten and he has an insufferably smug Kyungsoo smirking from across the table.

 

As if he was waiting for Baekhyun to break, Kyungsoo leaves his fork on the plate, then sinks under the table, crawling under it to nose at Baekhyun’s crotch. Baekhyun spreads his legs to welcome him, and Kyungsoo pulls at his sweatpants to free his erection.

 

“You went commando to the store?”

 

“I was too lazy to put on underwear,” Baekhyun replies, panting. “And you’re literally wearing nothing but Chanyeol’s apron right now so you’re in no place to judge.”

 

Kyungsoo chuckles, then licks up the length of Baekhyun’s dick and sucks the tip into his mouth. Baekhyun sits back, revels in the warmth of Kyungsoo’s mouth, the kitten licks he gives under the crown, the insistent sucks and pleased hums coming from within his throat. Baekhyun tugs at his hair as a warning when he’s about to come, and instead of charging forward like Kyungsoo usually does, he pulls back, lets Baekhyun’s dick slip from his mouth.

 

“Move back,” Kyungsoo orders, in a husky, fucked-up voice that sends chills down Baekhyun’s spine. Kyungsoo taps his shin with his knuckles when Baekhyun doesn’t comply, so Baekhyun pushes the chair back to accommodate him. Kyungsoo rises from the floor, but he doesn’t touch Baekhyun like he was expecting. Instead, Kyungsoo takes the time to clear the table, removing its contents to set them on the counter carefully.

 

Baekhyun watches in astonishment, his erection lying red and pitiful on his abdomen. “You’re just going to leave me like this?”

 

“I need to clear up the table first,” Kyungsoo explains calmly, like it’s obvious. “We don’t want to break the only nice plates you own.”

 

Baekhyun huffs, strokes himself a little to satisfy his need. Kyungsoo walks over and stops his hand from moving, not even budging when Baekhyun pouts at him.

 

“I don’t want you to come yet.”

 

“I’m not gonna come before you do,” Baekhyun assures him. “You know I’m a gentleman.”

 

Kyungsoo snorts, then sits on Baekhyun’s lap, staring into his eyes as he takes his dick in his hand and begins stroking. “I want you to fuck me over the table,” he says, low and amused. “Let’s see if it breaks.”

 

“If you break my table, I’ll—”

 

“I’ll buy you a new one.” Kyungsoo hands Baekhyun the lube and stands up and turns so he can display his ass, never taking off the apron. “I’m pretty sure I’m still loose from earlier.”

 

Baekhyun remembers how easily Kyungsoo had taken his dick and the dildo, and wonders if he can take more than two or three of his fingers. Uncapping the lube, he lathers his fingers and kneads Kyungsoo’s buttcheeks, leaning forward to kiss and nibble the flesh. Kyungsoo’s breath hitches, then he chuckles, looking over his shoulder at Baekhyun. It’s then Baekhyun pulls Kyungsoo’s cheeks apart and prods at his entrance with two fingers, predicting the effect it causes: Kyungsoo keens, loud and unrestrained, shaking from head to toe.

 

“You know I can take more than that,” Kyungsoo grits through his teeth. “I’m not going to break.”

 

There is challenge in the look Kyungsoo sends him over his shoulder; lust and challenge and a fire that burns Baekhyun straight to the core. Baekhyun lifts an eyebrow, smiling lopsidedly, then he pulls his fingers out to lather them with a bit more lube and replaces them with four fingers. Kyungsoo slumps forward on his elbows, his head low, a throaty moan spilling past his lips. Baekhyun rubs at his waist until Kyungsoo moves, bucking his hips back to give Baekhyun the signal to go.

 

Baekhyun begins pumping his fingers slowly, thoroughly, curling them and scissoring, enjoying the way Kyungsoo’s thighs are shaking, his breathing coming undone. In no time, they set a sloppy, familiar rhythm of Baekhyun thrusting his fingers and Kyungsoo thrusting back; Kyungsoo is never one to take and take, but always gives as much as he gets. Baekhyun loves it.

 

“Give me one more.”

 

Baekhyun stops to gawk at Kyungsoo.  

 

“What?”

 

“One more finger,” Kyungsoo pants. “Your whole fucking fist. I want it.”

 

“Are you sure, Soo? What if it hu—”

 

“It won’t hurt,” Kyungsoo interrupts. “I want it—please—”

 

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ Baekhyun’s so screwed. The plead and need in Kyungsoo’s voice, his tone so wholly wrecked, has shaken him to his very core.   

 

Baekhyun pulls out carefully, and Kyungsoo hisses, then whines like he needs to be filled. Baekhyun lathers up his hand with lube up to the wrist, and, taking a deep breath, he begins prodding at Kyungsoo’s entrance with two fingers. Slowly moves onto three. Four. And lastly, he adds his thumb.

 

Kyungsoo cries out, slumping completely onto the table. For a split second, Baekhyun considers pulling out and forgetting the whole thing—but then Kyungsoo is rolling his hips back, moaning like he truly needs this—needs Baekhyun inside of him—and Baekhyun can do nothing more than watch. He’s stilled inside Kyungsoo as he waits for Kyungsoo to adjust to the stretch, but with Kyungsoo’s insistence, he begins moving, thrusting shallowly, until his whole fist is inside Kyungsoo.     

 

Kyungsoo hisses, “Go on—move—”

 

Baekhyun can’t move. He’s too entranced by the sight of his fist inside Kyungsoo, how tight and warm and slippery he is around Baekhyun. Affection hits him in waves, at Kyungsoo’s trust, his absolute faith in Baekhyun to handle him with care.

 

Kyungsoo’s voice pierces through his embarrassingly sappy reverie. “ _Baekhyun_.” At hearing the desperation buried in Kyungsoo’s raspy tone, Baekhyun moves at last in slow, careful motions. As Kyungsoo’s whines and pants increase in volume, Baekhyun speeds up his pace, until Kyungsoo is gripping the edge of the table white-knuckled, trembling like a naked branch.

 

“I’m gonna come,” Kyungsoo breathes. “But I wanna come with your dick.”

 

Baekhyun twists his mouth in mock offense. “Not my fist? I’m a little hurt.”

 

Kyungsoo turns his head with a biting reply, but it dies before it is formed when Baekhyun pulls his fist out. In its place, a whine mixed with a gasp comes out while Kyungsoo slouches on the table again, collapsing like his entire body was made of rag.

 

Once he’s recovered, Kyungsoo huffs out, “Fuck me on the table or you’re going to bed with blue balls tonight.”

 

There is something to be said for Kyungsoo’s skill to sound threatening and alluring in a single breath while he’s lying boneless on a table. Baekhyun balks. “But—” He raises from the chair and tries again. “Are you sure you don’t wanna rest for a moment or something?”

 

“Are you concerned about me?”

 

The question is meant as a joke. It’s chased by Kyungsoo’s laugh, breathless, as he’s prying himself away from the table. A bright pink paints his cheeks down to his chest in disjointed patches, and he looks so gorgeous like that, Baekhyun forgets to respond.

 

Kyungsoo’s quizzical stare brings Baekhyun back to the moment with a jolt.

 

“Maybe? That’s what friends do.”

 

A weighty pause ensues. Kyungsoo can tell Baekhyun is prevaricating, by the way his smile has faded, and his gaze has turned pensive, trained on Baekhyun’s face. There is so much Baekhyun wants to tell Kyungsoo—that maybe, yes, his concern goes beyond that of a friend, and that he would really like for him to stay over every night from now on, or whenever he wants. But he doesn’t. Tucks it all under his tongue. Lets it fester in the cavity of his ribcage, in a little corner beneath his heart, like he’s been doing for a while now.

 

Baekhyun averts his gaze. His brain is screaming at him to say something, _anything_ , that could salvage this situation. But to his surprise, it’s Kyungsoo who breaks the tension.

 

Kyungsoo pads over to him and, placing a hand on his nape, kisses Baekhyun on the lips.

 

“Fuck me now,” Kyungsoo murmurs against Baekhyun’s mouth. “And we’ll talk later.”

 

The promise that entails sinks heavily in the bottom of Baekhyun’s stomach. Baekhyun nods, staring at Kyungsoo, marveling in the trace of a smile on his plump lips. Kyungsoo tugs at his earlobe, and, without much ceremony, pushes Baekhyun against the table until his back is on the surface.

 

The table scrapes against the tiles with the sudden motion. Baekhyun is panting. Kyungsoo doesn’t give him time to recover before he is taking off the apron, stepping on a chair and climbing onto the table. The wood creaks under his weight, but Kyungsoo doesn’t mind, straddling Baekhyun and sinking on him without a pause.

 

Baekhyun whines a weak warning, “Kyungsoo.” He rubs his hands over Kyungsoo’s hips, his waist, his back, soothing as can be, waiting for Kyungsoo to adjust. Kyungsoo’s eyebrows are drawn together, eyes closed and face wrecked with pleasure. Then, Kyungsoo’s eyes open, and he lifts himself up then slams down in one fluid movement.

 

Soon, Kyungsoo sets a pace, fast and voracious and needing, leaving Baekhyun to claw at his skin in between moans of his name. Baekhyun loves this: Kyungsoo on top of him, his incredible body, the firmness of his thighs on either side of him, his muscles rippling beneath the skin with every roll of his hips. Like this, Kyungsoo can have all the control he desires and Baekhyun is glad to give it all away.

 

The table bangs against the tiles, threatening to break any moment—but Baekhyun’s far too gone to care about his furniture. Kyungsoo fists Baekhyun’s shirt in one hand to drive his own pace, the other dragging across his abdomen, lavishing the toned muscle in silent praise. Baekhyun pinches Kyungsoo’s nipples between his fingers, and Kyungsoo arches at the sting, sending his rhythm off briefly. Kyungsoo squeezes around Baekhyun in retaliation, which makes Baekhyun jerk up to meet him, each upwards push of his hips as hard and deep as the last one.

 

By now, Baekhyun knows when Kyungsoo is close; Kyungsoo’s breathing becomes hard, his nose scrunched and brows furrowed with concentration, as if he’s trying to cling to every sensation. It’s such an arresting sight, Baekhyun forgets about anything other than watching Kyungsoo’s orgasm play out in his features.

 

“Touch me!” Kyungsoo groans.

 

Baekhyun wraps a hand around Kyungsoo’s dick, strokes once, twice, and then he’s coming, long strips of come splattering on his abdomen. Kyungsoo clenching around Baekhyun is what finally drives him over the edge. Baekhyun grabs Kyungsoo’s hips to pound into him until he’s filling Kyungsoo with his come, and Kyungsoo cries out, head thrown back, grinding on Baekhyun sloppily to draw out the last of his orgasm. At last, they come into a halt with low, tired moans, which quickly become winded laughs when Kyungsoo’s body falls forward over Baekhyun, spent and sated, his bones sagging in a sigh.

 

The rain pattering on the windows reigns in the ensuing silence. Kyungsoo lifts his head again after a long moment, and his face is glowing with satisfaction, his smile a slice of fruit, sweet and ripe. Baekhyun whispers, “Come here,” and draws Kyungsoo in with a hand on his neck, reveling in the shudder that ripples through Kyungsoo when he swipes his tongue across his bottom lip, like he’s been dying to do since they climbed on the table.

 

Kyungsoo hums into the kiss, curling his fingers over Baekhyun’s shoulders. These are some of the moments Baekhyun enjoys the most: Kyungsoo, pliant and warm and gorgeous, clad in that radiancy of being well-fucked, exchanging leisured kisses that mingle with sighs of contentment.

 

But as much he loves this moment, Baekhyun can’t ignore the growing ache in his back and his ass gone numb against the hard surface. “We should move,” Baekhyun suggests against Kyungsoo’s mouth. “I have a feeling the table is going to break at any moment.”

 

Kyungsoo grunts before kissing Baekhyun again. Clearly he doesn’t want to move from their current position and isn’t worried at all for Baekhyun’s poor butt. In the end, Kyungsoo pries himself away from Baekhyun, and Baekhyun tries not to be overly gleeful at his reluctance.

 

“How about a shower?” Kyungsoo steps down from the table, then helps Baekhyun rise to his feet. “I feel kinda gross right now.”

 

“What about me?” Baekhyun jokes, pointing at the come drying on his abdomen. Kyungsoo laughs, blushes, rubbing his cheek. Baekhyun feels that explosion of warmth again, and barely holds himself back from kissing him. “You’re gonna have to give me a nice scrub.”

 

“Okay,” Kyungsoo says, and leans in to kiss Baekhyun. “You got it.”

 

Baekhyun strips in the kitchen, kicking out of his pants and tossing his shirt on the tiles. Kyungsoo leads him to the shower by the hand like he’s in his own house. Baekhyun tags along happily. Kyungsoo sets the temperature warm enough that Baekhyun wants to stay there and live forever as a prune, stealing kisses from Kyungsoo while he’s getting his promised scrub.

 

(It would also not be so bad to see Kyungsoo under the shower spray, head tilted back and eyes closed while he rinses shampoo off his hair, with rivulets of water running down his naked body, for the rest of his life.)

 

Back in the bedroom, Baekhyun is a little nervous again. He had forgotten about his dilemma in the kitchen, but now, watching Kyungsoo trudging around his room and throwing the covers aside to slip underneath, it returns in full force.

 

Noticing Baekhyun standing still and dumbfounded, Kyungsoo gives him a curious look. “Aren’t you coming in?”

 

Baekhyun chastises himself for being overdramatic. Other one-night stands have slept over before. But Kyungsoo is different. And Kyungsoo had also promised him a talk. His stomach is a tangle of knots when he slips under the covers and faces Kyungsoo on the bed.

 

“So, about that talk earlier…”

 

“Do you wanna hang out tomorrow?” Kyungsoo interrupts. “Outside our apartments? Maybe spend the day together?”  

 

Baekhyun takes half a moment to take the meaning behind Kyungsoo’s proposition. Joy blossoms in his heart like flowers in tea.

 

“That’d be nice,” Baekhyun says, burrowing closer to Kyungsoo. “We can get ice cream and go to the park to watch dogs.”

 

“It’s a date then,” Kyungsoo says, then buries his fingers in Baekhyun’s hair to draw him in for a kiss. Kyungsoo seems to be sated, because the kiss doesn’t go beyond innocent touching, lazy kissing, the kind that Baekhyun loves most. Exhausted, Kyungsoo gives Baekhyun a last, sweet peck, then tucks his head under Baekhyun’s chin, and they drift off to sleep together, lulled by the harmony of rain.

  
  


iii.

  
  


(The following morning Baekhyun brings Kyungsoo breakfast in bed and Kyungsoo asks if this is one of the benefits of having someone’s fist in his ass.

 

Baekhyun chokes on a piece of toast.)

 

 

 


End file.
